


Calling on Gamzee Makara

by ClassyFailure



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Blackrom, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Chucklevoodoos, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Manipulation, Mind Rape, Sadstuck, Terezi Isn't Blind, gamrezi, hella blackroms, major character death yo, makara warning, terezee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2017-12-16 12:23:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassyFailure/pseuds/ClassyFailure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And she was wrapped up in his hold, held up with strings that, if you followed them, would be attached to his fingers. He showed her light and then forced her to see herself as she was dying with him. Dying without.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

                                                               

                 

 

His breath, his hair, his skin. It reeked of grapes and shame.

But of course, so did she. Sneaking around with him all the damn time took it’s toll. One morning, she even woke up with his blood painted on hers nails. His preaching and chuckles seeped into her own words, slowly. She was becoming a part of him, or he a part of her. There one could see it, in the dark blossom of their relationship, she could see the stitching that held them together.

She fought to break from it, but fought to keep it going. In she fed her time and emotion and out he churned the scratches and bruises. It was good, it was bad. It was Gamzee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cover by hehthar.tumblr.com 
> 
> (check the blog out this person is wonderful!)


	2. One

Day passed day passed day. Nothing changed. 

Karkat still stomped around, trying to keep everyone motivated and ready to fight at the drop of a quarter. Though his dedication and passion was admirable, nobody had the time. 

Kanaya was far too busy with Rose. They had enclosed themselves in a bubble and cut everyone else off. There were no words to be given to anyone else, and the two lovers were so preoccupied with each other that they wouldn't have even noticed if the meteor crashed on Skaia or everyone died. 

Gamzee had sunk into the vents, cutting off any contact with Karkat. Dave was the only one left around, besides Terezi, but the two of them couldn’t be in the same room together after all that had happened between them.

Often times, everyone was alone with their thoughts.  
That could be dangerous. 

Terezi walked down the grey hallway, the echos of her footsteps her only companions. They gave single-worded responses of soles hitting the floor. The walls, once alive and vibrant with the artworks that she and nepeta had slaved over, were fading in color. She turned to face one, touching her fingers to the smooth wall. She twitched, her nose, closing her eyes and taking in the smell. 

Her fingers slipped from the wall and to her side as she opened her eyes again. They were sore from so many years of lack of use. Her vision was something new, despite her having had it before. This vision was new to her. And it was darker than when she was blind. 

In the back of her mind, his voice rings.  
Every intimate moment they had, it plays like a film on repeat. She backed away from the wall, turning away and walking down the empty corridor. Dark doors to empty rooms pass by her. In her mind, she can hear him chuckle, feel his hands around her throat, and see her fingers digging lines into his neck. She bites the inside of her cheek, tasting the tiny prickle of teal.

 

He is a mirthful poison, a miraculous chemical to burn away the sins of the soul. He preached about his gods that would be waiting at Skaia. Sometimes, he’d be wearing that horrid codpiece. She loathed that filthy piece of clothing. 

There was shuffling in the distance. She paused, looking back and forth. Her heart picked up, pounding in her chest. In her mind, she could imagine the next few hours. Berating self confidence, spitting in faces, pulling hair and screaming. Troll instinct tugged in her gut. Find him. Find him. Fear whispered in her mind. Pain whimpered in her thoughts. Anguish tapped at the back of her jelly orbs. Keep walking. They told her. 

Instinct won, but the other emotions twisted in her mind, calling out cautions. 

“What do you want, Gamzee?” She yelled out, listening to the words echo back at her. Her own voice trailed down for a few seconds, then died somewhere in the distance. In her pocket, a palmhusk vibrated. ‘No time for that.’ she thought, looking further in the darkness. Again, the damn thing vibrated in her pocket. 

Letting out an exhausted huff, she slipped it out of her pocket, looking at the screen as it lit to life. 

The screen gave a soft white glow, but Terezi’s eyes were a little sensitive in this dark hall. Someone was trolling her, or, trolling the owner of the palmhusk. Hers broke ages ago, and some poor sap had dropped theirs right in her path. New palmhusk for Miss. Pyrope. 

\-- terminallyCapricious [TC] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA] !-- 

‘Oh, so it’s Sollux’s palmhusk...’

TC: im not down there  
TC: :O)  
TA: WH4T  
TA: WH3R3 TH3 H3LL 4R3 YOU??  
TA: >:[  
TA: 1’M NOT JOK1NG 4ROUND  
TC: TURN THE MOTHERFUCK AROUND  
TC: you got sight now  
TC: use it  
TC: :O)

She turned her head, looking over her shoulder down the other end of the hall. 

It seemed darker, smaller. Despite having just been facing it, this new hall seemed foreign and strange. She closed her eyes, feeling the familiar wave of her other senses kicking in. The smell, the sound, all of that registered as safe, calm. The pounding in her chest slowed to a halt. In the palm of her hand, the husk went off. Something kept her eyes shut as she turned her head. Something tempted her to stick her tongue out and take a good taste.

Nothing. There was nothing. Panic ripped her eyes open. The screen was covered in spit, giving off a hazy glow now. She wiped the saliva off with her shirt, getting another message. 

TC: you cant keep your eyes closed forever  
TC: what?  
TC: dont tell me that after all these years  
TC: OF ONLY SEEING DARK  
TC: THAT NOW YOURE MOTHERFUCKING SCARED OF IT.

\-- twinArmageddons [TA] has blocked terminallyCapricious [TC]! --

She shoved the husk back into her pocket, frowning. Deep lines seemed to be carved into her face now. It was him. He was frustrating and aggravating. She felt like an old lusus with a wriggler that had a tantrum. 

“I’m not playing your stupid games today, Makara!” 

“Oh but baby girl, you already are.”


	3. Two

The floor made a screeching sound as Terezi turned on her heels. The pop of a strife specibus being drawn out echoed down the halls. The hiss of a blade coming out of its sheath was interrupted by the thud of a club against steel.

 

“Aint no need to do that.” He said, skin stained with lines of purple, the corners of his mouth still dotted with dried teal and a subtle hint of brown.

 

She pulled her blade from under the club, frowning. He had lied about his location, obviously. The shadows cast down on his tall figure, shrouding half of his body in the black. The only truly defined thing she could see was his long, bony hand gripping the club, and his disgusting face, twisted into a smile.

 

In just under a sweep and a half, they had all grown quite dramatically. But after looking at everyone then and now, Terezi could honestly say Gamzee had the greatest of changes. He had gotten taller (as if that was possible), and his hair was a little longer. He resembled a gnarly twig.

 

“What do you want?” She asked, their eyes meeting. A small ring of purple was making it’s way through his irises, leaving a little splash of color in the sea of yellow. The corners of his eyes were crinkled up and something no short of a cackle slipped loose from his long throat.

 

“I want to invest...”

 

Her cane slid across the floor as his nails dug deep into her wrist.

 

“in your...”

 

Her head slammed against the wall as his other hand clamped around her mouth.

 

“ **MOTHERFUCKING** ”

 

His club was pressed against her neck, barely holding her down.

 

“...time.” His breath was hot and heavy on her face, his eyes still crinkled in the corners with a grin on his lips. All airways became blocked off as he pressed down on her neck. Vision became fuzzy around the edges, her hands gripping his shirt, scraping and clawing up to his face. Her nails raked down his cheek, and he loosened his grip.

 

Air was sweet on her lips, filling her lungs and giving her new life. Quickly she found the adrenaline, the fight. She pushed him back, hard, slamming him into the opposite wall. He chuckled when her fist found its way to his gut. Her eyes were ringed with cobalt fire, her lips streaked with fading black. Acid was on her tongue, it bubbled with as many insults as she could register.

 

“Fuck off, Makara” was about the most her mouth could keep up with. He laughed louder.

“But ain’t that what I got you for?”

 

She stepped back, her fingertips prickling with electricity. A white-hot rage filled her step, like she had swallowed the Alternian sun. It would be so easy to kill... no, it wouldn’t. If she even tried, he’d get her head rolling. If she even succeeded, she’d hate herself forever. “You gonna let a motherfucker go, or am I going to have to **TEAR YOU OUT OF MY WAY**.” His breath was hot in her face, and it smelt of mildew and rot. Waste and decay. Like the horrors of the universe condensed in respiration. Her hands did still not move from their grip in his shirt, clinging on to him as though he is the only life vest in a sea of ferals, while all the time he is actually the one drowning her.

 

Slowly, wary and careful to not move to suddenly, she backed away from him. Until the very last second her fingers stayed curled into the damp cloth of his shirt. Free from the heat rising off of his skin the air felt like ice, the sweat on her skin colder than cold. He stayed leaned against the wall, shrouded in dark and shadows and the claws of the shadows. The room was getting darker and darker, her vision purple around the edges. He was using his chucklevoodoos!  Her body was just so heavy on her knees!! The cane just sat on the ground, glinting in the little light. Just looking at it hurt. Her pusher thumped hard in her chest, the sound loud loud LOUD for everyone to hear. Her lip quivered. A little tear prickled behind her eyes.

 

He pushed himself off the wall in an effortless way. Graceful like a cobra. His mind venom leeking into her pan and breaking it down. She met his gaze, looked at the faint purple glow that got a little stronger with every small step he took towards her. Taking his sweet time. Too quick for her to follow and he was down on his knees. When did she fall to the floor, her glutes pressed against the cold floor. The cold that creeped up her spine and into her whole body. She was a statue when his long fingers touched her face.

 

“You need me.” He said. His voice was so low and soft, like he’d been talking to Tavros.

She did not respond. Her tongue had slid back into her gut.   
“You will always need me.” There was something darker in the air. Darker than broken lights or chucklefuckery or any of that. It was the dark shroud of lost. Lost and hopeless.

 

The lost was not in his voice, but she felt it when he spoke.

“You want me.”

 


	4. Three

His words were there, between him. With her sight she saw them and she saw his wicked hold on her throat. The voodoos chuckled into her pan and laughed their sorry clown asses off at her pathetic trembling existance. 

“You waaaaant me” he teased, reaching to cup her face, to stroke her hair. Tears prickled in her eyes, bile rose in her throat. The dank stench of his hot breath was more assaulting than the way his facepaint seemed to silently laugh at her. When blood prickled on her lip she realized she was biting it, but couldnt stop. She tried to say his name, to tell him to stop, but her voice had been sucked out by his purple haze. His eyes glowed brighter, the halls getting smaller and smaller, making her small with them but leaving him large and lanky and long. 

His club raised over his head, she had not even see it in his hands. The pain was bright and the spots behind her vision were teal. Keppel blood spilled hot from her head and onto the floor. She couldn’t even scream. Thoughts loosing their collectivity as he hit again, the voodoos and the pain wrapping her up in a web-

She didn’t even see the sword in her hands. 

It all happened so very, very fast. Recalling it later would be a problem, as the dark workings of his hellside meteor carnival were still’a’tickin in her mind. Mind. She was clear of mind and rage when her arm moved, when the sudden strength brought her to her knees after the third blow to the skull. He was bellowing, screaming and snarling and snapping. Deafness had joined her list of lost senses. It all went down so very, very fast. Regret pooled in her stomach instantly after and she felt like the monster but it   
had  
to happen. 

He was on the floor at her feet, the world begging to let itself back into her head and she let it. Pushed him out. There was a hoge smile across his stomach, a quick and deep line that took all her original strength. She blinked away the spots, opened her ears, silenced her sore throat - she had been screaming without control - and let him speak. 

“Kill me then.” He said. His sick smile was still curling his flap as he chuckled low and dark, a little gurgle of blood in his gut. “I’ll just come back.” 

“No.” her voice was so small. So weak. Timid and mild and soft and broken. A broken little girl with the sword in her hands. She was covered in her own spill, it drip drip dripping on the floor. “You won’t.” She did not smile, did not laugh. Pity, for some reason, tapped on her pusher. Pity and anguish and a hatred mild love. 

She did shed real tears when his head rolled on the floor.


End file.
